
PURPLE YOUTH 

A Play in One Act 

ROBERT Decamp leland 




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COPmiGRT DEPOSIT. 



Purple Youth 



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By ROBERT DeCAMP LELAND 

Roses and Rebellion 
The Book of Romance 



Purple Touth 

A Play in One Act 



By 

ROBERT Decamp leland 




BOSTON 

THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY 

1918 



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Copyright, ipi8, by 

The Four Seas Company 

All rights reserved 



The Four Seas Press 
Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 



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©CI.D 4 94:^3 



Purple Youth 



Purple Youth 



PERSONS 

Jean Ardlon, an author; realist and romanticist, 
aristocrat and pagan, lover of life, realizing it as 
the greatest of the arts. The sad face of the artist 
and dreamer, with a touch of cynicism at the corners 
of the delicate mouth. Young, slender, lithe, 
debonair. 

SiNA CoNRAN, a painter, the rare combination of the 
woman and artist. All-wise to life and love ; in all 
things the feminine counterpart of Jean. Utterly 
and unconventionally beautiful, in her face the 
pathos of a Madonna, her body slender, supple. 
There is a delicacy to her that is almost of the 
aesthete, yet with Jean, she has sensed that living — 
beautifully — is the sole justification of life. All 
their ideals, hopes, hates and desires are one. In- 
satiate lovers of beauty and finding it in each other, 

Gamaliel Tumsen, the everlasting Puritan. 

SCENE 
The studio of the lovers; a little shelter of real 

[9] 



Purple Youth 



Bohemia hidden away in the lair of the Philistines. 
Delicately furnished but with an evidence of econ- 
omy; a dark, Florentine table in the center of the 
room being the one luxury of furnishing. On it 
two bronze candlesticks; and chairs right and left 
of it. The long studio window, blue-curtained, is at 
the left. Before it an easel holding a newly- 
stretched canvas. Other canvases are piled against 
the window. 

At the back of the room a dark purple hanging hides 
bedroom and kitchen. The one door of the room 
is at the right back wall; a model-stand beside it. 
A writing desk, easy-chair and bookcase are at the 
right. A few landscapes and portraits on the walls. 

The room is in the half-light of the candles, heightened 
while TuMSEN is on by a shaded electric light over 
the table. 

TIME 

Here and Now. Evening and December. 

At rise of curtain Sin a, in a black velvet gown 
trimmed with silver, is setting the table for dinner. 
Places for two are already arranged and she is just 
laying down a blue china salad dish. She stands 
with finger to lip thoughtfully, then goes to window, 
lifts aside curtain and stands looking out. Sky- 
[lol 



Purple Youth 



scrapers can he seen illuminated. Below, snow over 
the roofs of the city and far out the lights of ships 
in the harbor. Jean enters and crosses to her. 
They embrace. 

SiNA 

You kiss beautifully. Quite like a god. 

Jean 
Divine, you have made me Divinity. 

[They look out over the city, lovers, dreamers.] 

SiNA 

Jean, you look worried — tired. 

Jean 
I am. Tired of existence in this wilderness of the 
commonplace. It's getting on my nerves. We've got 
to get away from it, that's sure. If we don't, the herd 
will trample us; every day they hedge us closer and 
closer. A sad environment for gods. 

Sina 
It's torture for us both. But where can we go? 



Purple Youth 



Jean 
Parvena. 

SiNA 

But I thought we'd given it up — another golden dream 
of youth faded to disillusion. 

Jean 
Could it ever die? 

SiNA 

Oh, never that one. It's the only place on earth where 
we could be supremely happy. 

Jean 
That's why I suffer so. 

Sina 
Where life and love are absolute perfection — even the 
trivial inconsequential. — They hate us here, for don't 
they always hate the beautiful? Two frail children 
in a wilderness of beasts. 

Jean 
And Parvena — the last refuge in the world for those 
who live through art. [He takes her hand.] 

[12] 



Purple Youth 



SiNA 

Oh, Jean, it is all so beautiful and so pathetic. Must 
the purple of our lives be forever lost in their drab? 

Jean 
The penalty of seeking perfection in the here and 
now of life. 

SiNA 

And Parvena? Do you think we will ever reach it? — • 
All our plans — 

Jean 
Plans and plans and plans. Strategies and projects, 
campaigns and systems ; an eternal running around in 
a circle. 

SiNA 

There must be a way — even for artists. - 

Jean 
[Hopelessly] 
Fve tried everything. 

SiNA 

The movies? You could act. 

[13] 



Purple Youth 



Jean 
Tm not an athlete. 



SiNA 

Best-sellers ? 

Jean 

Nor a tradesman. 

SiNA 

[As they sit at table.] 
How about soap? Lots of people use it. 

Jean 
Now, that's a good idea. There's millions in it. Be 
a success. Clip the coupon. Don't delay. [Pause. 
They are silent, wholly serious beneath the banter.] 

Sina 
If only I could get some commissions. 

Jean 
I thought that the book would pull us through but 
even that hope seems about to fail. 

[14] 



Purple Youth 



SiNA 

[Surprised, drops fork] 
The book? Jean, tell me! 

Jean 
Do you know what they threaten to do with Jean 
Ardlon's latest and dearest brain child "Purple Youth?" 
They say the infant is blasphemous and salacious, 
though only two weeks old. Dropped in at Donney's 
tonight and he said suppression was being threatened. 

SiNA 

Censored ! Jean ! 

Jean 
Even so. Tumsen of The Society for the Suppression 
of Thought sent a deputy down to Don*s last week. 
Told him to recall all copies of the book mimediately 
or they'd take grave steps. Don, being a brave pub- 
lisher, refused. Result, another call this week and 
further threats. I didn't tell you, for I thought it 
trivial. [Reaches into pocket.] And here's a review 
from the "Chimes". I'll wager some old woman 
stayed up till nine o'clock over a cup of strong tea to 
write it. [Hands it to her.] 

[15] 



Purple Youth 



SiNA 

[Reading] 
"Another writer who takes pride in flaunting his 
eroticism in the face of the public." Oh, I love that. 
"It is high time that somebody put a stop to publishing 
these books that deify illicit love and shock every 
decent sensibility of upright, wholesome men and 
women." Typical, isn't it, of the old-maid regime! 
Another kindergarden chant from the provincial illit- 
erates of Hfe. 

Jean 
The academic virtuosi at their chamber music, jang- 
ling eternally the healthy decorous. That's a good 
line; I must remember it. Worse yet, tonight as I 
came in, Mrs. Smudge stopped me in the hall. Some- 
how she'd run across a copy of the book and the poor 
soul was properly scandalized. Asked how I could 
ever write such wicked things. And threatened to 
cut our lease. 

SiNA 

[Laughing] 
The average reader. And watched the dreary herd 
wind on its weary way. Landladies, motormen, clerks, 
flappers, Sunday-school superintendents, farm-hands, 

[i6] 



Purple Youth 



college girls, bootblacks, members of women's clubs, 
street-cleaners, mechanics, bostonians, brakemen, 
suit-and-cloak workers, chamber-maids, manufactur- 
ers, barbers, waiters, policemen. There is your liter- 
ary tradition. 

Jean 

Speaking of policemen, the man of the law that patrols 
the corner, gave me a slant-eyed look as I came home 
tonight and followed me tenderly to the door. I still 
shiver with the distinction. 

SiNA 

[Rising] 

The commonplace begins to show a flash of intensity! 
I'd like to meet that Dumpson — was that his name? 
Heavens, but he must be an interesting specimen. 
He's probably the kind that still thinks woman a 
mystery — or a doll — or both. 

Jean 

And reads the "Boston Transcript" and all the other 
comic papers. — Some day I'm going to write the brute 
down. — And wouldn't it be a farce to paint him ? The 

[17] 



Purple Youth 



old jackass would probably roll at your feet if you 
fed him a little sugar. 

SiNA 

Most likely. Oh, Jean, the pathos of it all. It is our 
purple youth that they would dim. 

Jean 
The little villa at Parvena fades. I had such hopes 
of the book; the advance sale had been big. Next 
month, dear heart, we would have touched hands far 
at sea, our fairest dream realized. 
[Knocks on the door — belligerent knocks — repeated 

with untactful emphasis. The lovers exchange 

glances by the table. Jean rises.] 

SiNA 

I wonder? 

Jean 

Come. 

[TuMSEN enters. A short, stocky man, bullheaded, 
stodgy-necked. Ears wide set, eyes narrow and 
shifty. Erect and dignified after the small-town 
manner. Hands that seldom move; when they do, 
gesticulate awkwardly. A deep, assertive voice that 
[i8] 



Purple Youth 



rises in anger to falsetto. Hard, cruel lips that have 
prayed on Sunday and told near-Rabelaisian stories 
Monday. Wears a silk hat, a self-made tie, patent 
leather buttoned shoes and a huge lodge pin in his 
lapel. A typical herdsman, provincial, credulous, 
self-assertive, average, mediocre, futile. In short, 
the perfect Philistine. He feels his way carefully in 
and faces the two.^ 

Jean 
[Politely] 
We were just finishing dinner — 

TUMSEN 

{Easily] 
Oh, that's all right. I've eaten. [Appraises room and 
occupants in a glance.] Your name Ardlon? 

Jean 
Yes. 

TUMSEN 

My name is Tumsen. Gamaliel Tumsen. [Pauses 
for effect.] 

Jean 
I'm glad to know you, Mr. Gamaliel Tumsen. 

[19] 



Purple Youth 



TUMSEN 

[Grandly] 
President of The Society for the Suppression of 
Thought. 

Jean 
[Poised] 
The Society is familiar. Sometimes a Httle too 
famiUar. 

TUMSEN 

[Severely] 
You are impudent, young man. [ Turns to Sina whose 
first shock has given place to concealed amusement.] 
I think your wife had better leave the room a few 
minutes. [An amused flash between the artists. Sina 
goes out.] Now, young man, you may know why I 
have been sent here. 

Jean 
Old man, won't you have a chair? 

Tumsen 
This is no time for levity. 

[20] 



Purple Youth 



Jean 
[Amused] 



As you will. 



TUMSEN 

Now, here's the whole story, young fellow. Your 
book, "Purple Youth," has been passed upon by our 
Committee and found [Takes out paper] possessing 
certain characteristics derogatory to the safety of the 
morals of our reading public. Certain pages, I read 
from the report, 7-9-28-54-55-80-81-82-83-84 and 93, 
have been the basis of the closest study. Now the 
publisher of this book has been twice asked to with- 
draw it from circulation and has twice refused, the 
last offense being this afternoon. I have this moment 
come from his office. 

[Paces before the table in deep deliberation. At the 
end of one of the strides he comes face to face with 
a reproduction of Rodin's Psyche that stands on the 
bookcase. Shocked a bit, then with the leer of the 
polished student of pornographic postcards. As 
Jean turns towards him, Tumsen Tvith a last de- 
vouring look turns away and continues his pacing. 
He repeats his eye-infatuation twice, each time his 
pacing brings him near. The last time Jean notices.] 

[21] 



Purple Youth 



Jean 

[Amused] 



Rodin's Psyche. 



TUMSEN 

[Embarrassed] 
Oh, yes, yes — as I said, your publisher, an impudent 
httle rascal, has refused to withdraw. He knows the 
consequences, which are quite severe, but claims that 
your contract releases him of any obligation ; that you 
are to assume all liability. 

Jean 
That's all authors ever assume. 

TUMSEN 

Your book is positively vile, that's what it is. It 
shocks every decency. Why, I blush to think of my 
daughter reading it. 

Jean 
[Bored] 
Then why did you let her? 

TUMSEN 

Shame, sir! 

[22] 



Purple Youth 



Jean 
Was it shame, sir, or anger that she had read it first. 

TUMSEN 

I read it! The idea! Oh, you mean, well, that's 
different. Have you the impudence to infer that I 
read it to revel in its wickedness? The theme of it 
is damnable. Those two people love secretly but they 
don't get married. Not so you'd notice it. 

Jean 
[Innocently] 
But sometimes people do love that way in life, you 
know. 

TUMSEN 

My dear young man, we're not talking about life; 
we're talking about books. 



Jean 



I see. 



TUMSEN 

Now, in your book, this bounder seduces a shop girl. 

[23] 



Purple Youth 



Jean 

Well— 



TUMSEN 

Well, she does not suffer, does she? She rejoices in 
it and when he leaves her, she is as happy and proud 
as ever. Now that's damnable. — And besides books 
should teach happiness, sunlight. They should be 
healthy and wholesome. Life is sad and wicked 
enough without writing about it. 

Jean 

Your life has had to do with rubber or chewing gum 
or varnish or scrap-iron. I have pledged mine to the 
worship of beauty, a commodity foreign to your 
scheme of fhings. 

TUMSEN 

Rubber, the idea ! Have you never heard of Tumsen 
elevators? Five hundred buildings equipped during 
the present year. — But what has the elevator business 
got to do with books? 

Jean 
I wish you would tell me. 

[24] 



Purple Youth 



TUMSEN 

[Angrily rapping the table] 
Well, I'll tell you. I have got the power — you know 
that — and whether you like it or not, I'm going to use 
it. Either I leave this room with a signed statement 
from you that you withdraw your book, or tomorrow 
you will continue your writing in jail. 

Jean 
An essay on "Anglo-Saxons and Romance," or "The 
Influence of the Police on Native Art !" [Then sotto.] 
Farewell, Parvena! 

TUMSEN 

Time is short. 

Jean 
Thus spake Zarathustra. 

TUMSEN 

[Glaring] 
And thus spake Gamaliel Tumsen. 

Jean 
Your proposition calls for deliberation. If I should 
drop in at your office some day and tell you to stop 

[25] 



Purple Youth 



selling elevators, what would you say? I suppose, 
that elevators were uplifting and so highly moral. 
[Pause] If you can give me a few minutes time I 
would like to consult the publisher. He lives near. 
Certainly you can see the justice of that. 

TUMSEN 

[Hesitating] 
Well, then, five minutes. But remember the alternative 
stands, and no tricks, young man, no tricks. 

Jean 
Thank you. Meanwhile you can entertain Sina — my 
wife — [Smiling] Oh, Sina. [Sina enters] Mr. 
Tumsen of The Society for the Suppression of Thought 
has come to the conclusion that "Purple Youth" is to 
be suppressed. Otherwise I must languish in penitence 
and jail. He has, however, most graciously allowed 
me to consult with Donney. Until I return, my com- 
miserations. [He goes out] 

Sina 
[Goes to window, stands looking out a moment. 
Comes to a resolve. No other movement than a 
swift clenching and unclenching of her hands. Then 
turns to Tumsen who paces before the table.] 

[26] 



Purple Youth 



Won't you sit down, Mr. Tumsen ? There, let me pull 

up a chair for you. 

[She helps him into it. As she does so, her hair touches 
his cheek. He loses a degree of his belligerency and 
for the first time seems aware of her beauty. From 
now on the game is in Sina's hands, the elemental 
woman, but more, a hundred-fold more beautiful, 
a hundred-fold subtler. Tumsen takes a furtive, ad- 
miring side-glance at her as she fusses around him.] 

Are you comfortable? I have heard so much of you 

and your work, and have seen your picture so often in 

the papers. 

Tumsen 
[Drinking in her words] 
My work has brought me into great prominence. 

SiNA 

Won't you have some tea? Everybody says my little 

pasties are adorable. [Smiling sweetly.] I can cook, 

you know. Most painters can. Please ! 

[Tumsen yields. She goes out and returns with tea 
and cakes wh^ch she has previously prepared. She 
pours for him; again her hair brushes his face, some 
intangible perfume of her soothes his nostrils. He 
eats; his heart is open.] 

[27] 



Purple Youth 



TUMSEN 

Really, I have never tasted anything quite as good as 
these before. They're even superior to my Sunday 
morning fish-cakes. 

SiNA 

[Their hands touch as he takes another pastie.] 
I'm so glad you like them. 

TUMSEN 

Do you know, I'd like to stay here forever. Every- 
thing is so nice and quiet. [He smiles his admiration 
of her between heavy munches. Sina plays up to him. 
He glances toward the portrait of a beautiful woman 
that hangs over the writing desk.'\ I love that. It's 
so — so — impressive. [Rises to admire it.] Beautiful, 
beautiful. Is it much work, paintin' pictures? 

Sina 
That depends on the sitter. [She comes close to him.] 
Why, Mr. Tumsen, hold that a minute. Now turn a 
little that way. [Her cool white hands are on his 
shoulders, as she pulls on the electric light and turns 
him to face it.] There. [Looks at him critically and 
admiringly.] Oh, you would be wonderful to paint. 
You have every point of beauty. 

[28] 



Purple Youth 



TUMSEN 

[Holding the pose proudly] 
Oh, do you think so ? 

SiNA 

[Going to him and arranging his tie. Her body touches 
his for a delightful tick of time. Then she steps 
back critically.] 

Oh, the clearness of the contour, the subtlety of the 

cheek. Oh, I must, I must paint you. You are 

wonderful. 

TUMSEN 

[Clay in her hands] 
I've always wanted to have my picture painted but 
somehow I've never found time. [Sina glances ap- 
prehensively at the door, realising time is short.] 
When can we begin and how much will it cost? Let's 
start now. [He is like a child with a new-found toy. 
Pats his hair lovingly.] 

Sina 
Most subjects need light, but you could be painted just 
as well in the dark. 

[29] 



Purple Youth 



TUMSEN 

I've heard that pictures are very expensive. 

SiNA 

I usually get $500 for a portrait, but I want to do you 
so badly that I'd be willing to give you yours. 

TUMSEN 

Oh, no. I couldn't do that. Will it take long? 

SiNA 

[Patting his lapel, almost affectionately.] 
Oh, one or two sittings. And we'd have tea and cakes 
every time. 

TUMSEN 

[Wickedly] 
1 hope it takes ten sittings. Then I can be with you. 
Of course nothing must be said of this. It might 
cause talk. Here, I will write you a check before I 
forget it. [SiNA conceals surprise, as Tumsen goes 
to table.] Or better still, I have the cash with me, if 
you prefer. I stopped in at the bank this afternoon. 

[30] 



Purple Youth 



SiNA 

As you say. Perhaps the cash would be better. 

TUMSEN 

They've got to be pretty sharp to get it away from me. 
See, I keep it buttoned in a hidden pocket. [He elab- 
orately draws out a large roll of bills, counts out five 
hundreds carefully, and hands them to her. Sina puts 
them in her bodice. 1 Now when do we begin work? 

Sina 
[Goes to easel, prepares brushes and paints] 
Now. If Jean came back, he might interrupt. 

TUMSEN 

Jean? Oh, yes, I forgot. Well, I've about made up 
my mind to let the boy off easily. 

Sina 

[Sweetly] 

You are so kind — would you mind putting that in 
writing? 



[31] 



Purple Youth 



TUMSEN 

[With a side leer of admiration^ 
Why, yes — anything to please you. [Writes at table.] 
How's this? 

"As between friends, agreement is hereby 
made by Gamaliel Tumsen to cease suppress- 
ion of Jean Ardlon's novel, 'Purple Youth'. 
(Signed) Gamaliel Tumsen, 

President of the Society for the Suppression 
of Thought." 

How's that? I'll leave it on the table. 

SiNA 

[Sweetly] 
Thank you. Now sit up there on the model stand. 
[She goes over and pats him into a stilted pose. Then 
quickly hack to easel.] Now, this won't take but a 
few minutes. Try to hold that pose. It's wonderful ! 
There ! [She works hastily, with quick, sharp strokes. 
A moment later Jean enters.] 



Jean 
[Blinking] 
What is it, a film or a charade? 

[32] 



Purple Youth 



SiNA 

[Turning with poised brush] 
Oh, Jean, Mr. Tumsen has given me a commission to 
paint his portrait. He thought he would look well on 
canvas. 

Jean 
We refuse to recall the book. 

SiNA 

[Points to table and note] 
But Mr. Tumsen has voluntarily agreed to withdraw 
his demands. Isn't he sweet! [She leaves Jean to 
read it — he already senses an underlying comedy. Then 
back to easel, a few more quick strokes.] There, it's 
all finished. [Surveys it a moment, adds a stroke. 
Tumsen gets off stand and advances half way across 
room to view it. Jean beside him. Sina rolls easel to 
light and discloses to their gaze a perfect reproduction 
of a perfectly healthy, wide-eared, blank-faced donkey. 
On her face the pride of the artist as Tumsen recoils.] 
The quickest and closest likeness ever done in oils. 

Tumsen 
What's this? Why, it's an outrage. 

[33] 



Purple Youth 



Jean 
[Looking critically and quickly from Tumsen to 
canvas. ] 

You certainly got him. 

SiNA 

[Lifting canvas hastily from easel] 

All my life I have wanted to paint you, in all your 
ugliness, in all your hypocrisy, in all your shallowness, 
and not until tonight have the fates been kind. There 
you are, as only an artist could paint you — there you 
are in all your crude, rustic simplicity — there you are 
in immortal paint, the everlasting Puritan. [She 
thrusts it upon him with a half -laugh.] Take it, pre- 
serve it, sleep with it, eat with it, carry its likeness 
forever with you as the mark of your kind. Yonder 
door beckons, the hour is late and the artist is utterly 
tired and wholly bored. 

Tumsen 
My $500! For this outrage. Impudence. [His voice 
shrieking falsetto.] You will pay for this. You have 
tricked me. I will not stay longer in this place of 
mockery. [Playing his trump card.] Your wife there 

[34] 



Purple Youth 



made love to me. She played with me. [A laughing 
glance of understanding flashes between the artists.] 
What are you going to do about it? 

Jean 
[Amused] 

This. [He grasps the canvas and with a quick 
powerful stroke, smashes it down over Tumsen's head.] 
Always keep it there, may it ever be a halter of art 
about your head. [He picks up Tumsen's hat and 
propels him stuttering falsetto imprecations out the 
door. Then he comes down to Sina. They meet at 
table.] 

Sina 
Oh, Jean. 

Jean 
My wife — my dear, maternal, clever wife. It was 
superb, that denouement. 

Sina 
Oh, Jean, I could not resist it. The opportunity so 
matched the necessity ; the punishment the crime. The 
book is safe. He cannot go back on his signed state- 
ment. And shame will keep the beast out of the courts. 

[35] 



Purple Youth 



Jean 
Wonder girl, you are adorable. — But you don't 
mean — ? 

SiNA 

He paid for it. And in advance. Five hundred crinkly, 
crispy dollars. Aren't they cute? [Lets the bills flutter 
into his hands.] You gave me the inspiration. 

Jean 
But the execution. You were perfect! There is my 
essay, all written for me, "Anglo-Saxons and Ro- 
mance." And a dollar a word. 

Sina 
Oh, Jean, I hardly know. — It has all been like a play.* 

Jean 

A farce. [He turns out the light and takes her hand.] 

Sina 
And more, eternal romance. The farce merely the 
scherzo to our symphony of love. [They move to the 
window. Again the sweep of the city; the vista of 
the harbor.] Tomorrow we will touch hands at sea, 
you and I, dear boy. 

[36] 



Purple Youth 



Jean 
Parvena. [Sina turns to his embrace. His lips touch 
hers tenderly.] 

Sina 
Dear. 

Jean 

Beloved. 

Both 
[Softly] 
Parvena. 

[The curtain falls slowly.] 



[37] 



